Sail Away Sweet Sister
by Lizwontcry
Summary: Sandor pays Arya a little visit on her journey to the West, and she's glad to see him, even if she has no idea why-or how-he's there.


**A/N - Just a little thing because I'm still not over it.**

* * *

The wind is flowing through the sails, and the sun is setting over the land, turning the sky into a canvas of violet and turquoise and orange. It's one of those moments during the journey to the West that Arya thinks takes on a truly magical quality. She's free; she's been to hell and back but now she's free. Someday she will go back to Winterfell, she will be by Sansa's side and help her rule their ancestral home, and hopefully she will get to wrap her arms around Jon again, too. Bran has his own throne now, one that she hopes to see someday as well. There may be fewer Starks than before, but they have more power than ever.

She also plans to a trip to Storm's End someday. She hopes Gendry isn't waiting for her, but if he is, she'll be ready. Probably. On her terms, of course.

Arya takes a deep breath and takes it all in, the fresh air, the rays of the setting sun penetrating her skin. She hasn't made it all the way West yet but it should be any day now. She can't wait to see the unknown.

"So you think you're a clever bitch, do you? You're going to be a little explorer." She hears a voice from behind her.

_What in the hell?_

It can't be.

Arya spins around to see Sandor Clegane, live and in person, standing there on the bow, looking at her with some mixture of pride and annoyance.

Arya says nothing. She must be seasick or something. Because he's...

"Dead. You thought I was dead, didn't you? That's just plain rude, girl."

"I must be seeing things. You died fighting Gregor. Everyone knows this," Arya says, feeling like a real idiot talking to what must be a shadow. Those clams she ate last night must have been bad.

"Aye, it's not the clams you ate. I'm really here. Take a look, come on, come closer." How does he know about the clams? She is seriously losing it.

Despite not wanting to do that in the slightest, Arya slowly walks over to where this shadow masquerading as Sandor is standing. When she gets closer, she sees that it is really him-there are his scars, his stringy hair, his dark eyes, and that nasty scowl he was infamous for-everything matches who Arya knows as the Hound.

Although she desperately wants to move back and question everything about this situation, instead Arya reaches out and grabs Sandor's hand. It's rough and callused, of course, but that's to be expected. Sandor looks down at her-not angrily, but curiously.

"Still trying to see if I'm real? I'm fucking real, all right. You can let go now." But he didn't move his hand and she didn't let go. His hand is comforting to her in some weird way. It's odd how after all the time she spent as his captive, once she was free, she couldn't wait to travel with him again to King's Landing once they were reunited. Arya knows Sandor cares for her; his fight with Brienne showed the lengths he would go to for her. She didn't leave him for dead on that mountain because she wanted to see him die-it's the exact opposite. Well, mostly. She wanted her freedom more than she wanted to be the one to kill him. But she also had no urge to watch as the life left his body.

Instead of asking how he survived the fall, how he got out of King's Landing, and how in _the hell_ he got on the boat without her knowing, Arya says, "Welcome to my ship, then. This is the Wolf Girl. I'm going to the West, since nobody has been there before, to my knowledge."

She finally releases his hand and Sandor walks around the boat, taking everything in. She can tell he's impressed.

"So you missed me, eh?" Sandor says, and Arya is instantly embarrassed as Sandor picks up his dog helmet that she keeps tied to the mast. She has it mostly as a keepsake, to remember him by. Mostly. "I've been looking all over for this goddamn thing. Where'd you even find it?"

Arya doesn't answer. Why couldn't she have kept it somewhere less visible? Such a rookie mistake.

"Come on, girl. Why do you have this on your ship? I deserve an answer to that, don't I?" He looks at her from across the boat, and she feels herself blushing. How ridiculous.

Arya walks slowly over to Sandor, who is still holding his helmet.

"I kept it because you were the one to convince me that there's more to life than revenge," Arya finally answers. "So it's here to remind me of that when I need to remember the most."

Sandor looks... touched? Relieved? Sad? She can't tell, exactly.

"And 'Wolf Girl?' Of course you'd name your boat."

Arya can't help it. "A lot of people name their boats."

Sandor smiles wearily, and doesn't finish the joke because they both know the punchline.

"Okay, yes, I missed you. I was sad to hear that you died after pushing yourself and your brother through the wall into the fire. It seemed like the worst death I could imagine for you. All that fire... it didn't seem worth it to lose you that way. Especially after you convinced me not to go with you."

"Ah, but you're mistaken. It was the _best_ way to die, because I took my cunt brother with me. I wasn't afraid of the fire anymore, and I wasn't afraid of Gregor, either. It was always going to happen that way, girl. Don't feel bad for me. Be happy that I got what I always wanted."

Arya is quiet for a moment, taking this all in. It still doesn't make sense that he's standing on her boat right now, but she'll get to that later.

"That was_ all_ you wanted? Ever since you were a boy?"

Sandor looks confused, but he answers, "Of course not. I was always in search of a good meal, cold ale, a deadly sword fight, a willing woman, and as much coins as my pocket could carry."

Arya doesn't change her facial expression because she doesn't want him to see her disappointment. What good would that do? She feels dumb again.

This time, Sandor is the one who takes her hand. "Even when I was Joffrey's sworn shield, I felt no urge to keep him safe-I only did what was required of me, and I only did it for the coins. The first time I ever felt like it was my duty and honor to protect someone was with your sister, Sansa. There was something about her that made me feel like I was the only one who truly cared about keeping her safe. And when I left King's Landing and found you out in the wild, If no one else was going to look after you, I knew it was my job to do it. And I would have for the rest of my life if I had to. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, girl. You know I'll always be here for you."

Arya looks up at him, tears threatening to erupt from her eyes, and not surprisingly-Sandor is gone. No trace of him. The wind is still threading through the sails and the sun is slowly setting into the mountain. Darkness is approaching.

And with that, Arya awakens, sitting straight up in bed, almost throwing Gendry right off of it.

"Hey! What's wrong, what happened?" Gendry asks sleepily, putting his arm around her. Arya sinks into it, relieved she's not alone after all.

"Oh... nothing," Arya says. "I think I ate some bad clams last night..."

Gendry knows better. "You had that dream again? I'm glad it's just a dream, I don't think we have enough to feed Sandor if he was here with us."

Arya smiles slightly. "That's true. He would have drank all the wine on the first day."

She lays back down and Gendry holds her tightly.

And again she wishes it wasn't just a dream.

* * *

_Sail away sweet sister_

_Sail across the sea_

_Maybe you'll find somebody_

_To love you half as much as me_

_Take it the way you want it_

_But when they let you down my friend_

_Sail away sweet sister_

_Back to my arms again_

_\- Queen -_


End file.
